


Lavish

by Jay_eagle



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Lust, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on the kink meme (can be found here http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6625.html?thread=13380065#cmt13380065  - but will spoiler the ending - be warned!)</p><p>Martin and Douglas finally give in to their attraction - but Martin's expectations of the situation they're getting into aren't quite what Douglas had in mind. Douglas sets about disproving Martin's preconceptions of his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Storm

It had been coming, Martin was to reflect later, for a long time. Weeks of increasingly catching each others’ eyes at times when one or both of them should have really been focusing on the instruments; ever-less accidental brushes of arms or hands when they were moving round the plane or the portakabin. All originating from a game the previous month which had unwittingly caused them both to reveal a past that included male partners – that is, if it was _unwitting_ on Douglas’ part – Martin could never be absolutely certain that it wasn’t just another of his first officer’s intricately plotted schemes, to get him to reveal his bisexuality, to concurrently inform him of Douglas’ preferences being wider-ranging than he’d previously imagined.

 

Whatever the reason or past histories involved, it had led Martin to this point – this incredulous, nearly unimaginable point. Here, in a slightly seedy hotel bedroom (a step up in the world, that – normally MJN’s layovers were solely in _exceedingly_ seedy establishments) with Douglas staring intently at him – meeting his eyes from just millimetres away. Because he’d just cut Martin off in the middle of an impassioned lecture on safety regulations by leaning over and kissing him. Hard.

 

Martin gaped, knowing absently that he must resemble a mackerel, mouth opening and shutting without sound emerging. His brain didn’t know how to process what had just occurred, even given the days of build-up. He hadn’t let himself think about it – had even partly convinced himself that he was being an idiot. After all, why would _Douglas_ – twenty years older, sophisticated, suave, impatient – look twice at him? Even if last month he had mentioned a past romantic history that included James and Fadil alongside Alice, Helena and Lucy?

 

Douglas’ eyes were becoming concerned. “Martin.”

 

Martin looked at him again, noted the flecks of lighter hazel amidst the deep chocolate of Douglas’ irises. “Y-yes?” he managed to stutter, feeling as if he really needed to reboot his brain.

 

Douglas half-smiled, with an uncharacteristic touch of nerves in his expression. “Are you OK?”

 

Martin nodded, wordlessly. Douglas’ face clouded, and he began to lean back, away from Martin, slight embarrassment evident in the crinkle of his forehead. Without considering it, Martin’s mouth babbled before his brain could intercede. “No _,_ no, no, _no_... wait.” He reached forwards, grabbed Douglas by the wrist, stopping his shift away.

 

“You want - ?” Douglas didn’t complete the sentence, distracting Martin accidentally by beginning tracing complex little patterns with his fingertip on Martin’s exposed hand.

 

A furious battle was raging inside Martin’s mind. Yes, he did _want_ – absolutely he did, it was everything he most secretly desired and yet simultaneously least believed in. He wasn’t a blushing virgin, he’d even slept with a colleague before (not that he’d be admitting that to anyone anytime soon – he’d been horrified at his own unprofessionalism at the time, though not enough to stop it). He just wasn’t sure whether with Douglas – _Douglas_ – he could make it mean little enough to himself. With the steward he’d fucked back at the tinpot charter firm he’d been employed at before he joined MJN, both of them knew they were in it for the short term – he’d never wanted to spend time with Paul away from the bedroom, the sex had been rough – not brutal, but pretty uncaring – and feelings had never been brought into the equation. Scratching an itch for both of them; nothing more. But with _Douglas_ –

 

All this flew through Martin’s brain at the speed of light. There was no one in MJN – no one at Fitton – who could conduct risk assessments as thoroughly and rapidly as him, the captain, after all. And whilst in this instance he was gauging emotional risk and likely professional fallout rather than consulting weather forecasts or navigational charts, the principles were basically the same. _What can I endure? What might I lose?_ His heart was screaming assent even as his mind backpedalled furiously…

 

“Sod it.” Martin didn’t allow Douglas any time to even look surprised at the bizarre non sequitur of an epithet that he’d uttered. He closed the gap between them again, and kissed Douglas back. Passionately, as if his life depended on it.

 

Douglas’ pleased groan startled him, used as he had been to near-total silence from his partners in the past. He tensed up, only relaxing fractionally as he felt Douglas’ arms encircling his back, pulling him closer, allowing him to feel the warmth of the broad chest against his own much narrower ribcage. Nervously, he ran his own hands up Douglas’ spine, tracing the dip between his shoulder blades, unsure what contact would be welcomed. He was still kissing Douglas, feeling the FO’s tongue lightly caressing his own, but was unable to enjoy it – too much of his brain was taken up with fretting about what would happen next – what should he do, how should he progress things, _what if I get it wrong_?

 

Douglas pulled back slightly, still holding Martin tight. His face was worried. “Is this OK?” he asked, his voice honey-rich in Martin’s ear. “You’re awfully tense.”

 

“S’fine.” Martin had a strong inclination to babble, terrified Douglas would pull away, stop. “Please. More. Please.” He tilted his head forward, licked lightly at Douglas’ throat, only barely resisting the urge to suck.

 

“Hmm. Who am I to – mmm – refuse?” Douglas emitted a rumble of pleasure, his hands sweeping over Martin’s back, shoving lightly at his jacket to urge Martin to remove it.

 

Martin hastily complied, letting the black material slither to the floor behind him, not breaking off from applying his mouth softly to Douglas’ tanned throat. He felt Douglas reach behind him, untuck his white shirt – slide his hands gently under the waistband of his always too-loose trousers to fondle his arse.

 

Something in Martin resigned, intense excitement warring with the feeling of the impending inevitable. Half-forgotten memories of Paul were fresh in his mind, of being fucked up against the wall, strong hands gripping his triceps, of profanities gasped in anonymous bedrooms without consequence, without repercussions. It had been fine. He could make this be fine too. Whatever Douglas wanted. Because Martin’s fantasies certainly weren’t attainable.

 

Perhaps his nerves would shut up if he moved things along. Douglas’ hands exploring the crease of his behind were gentle, almost sinuous – a light finger wriggling in the crack here, a soft sweep over the curve of his cheek there. It felt too much like tenderness, was a facsimile of what Martin most desired. It was _too close_ and he knew he’d break when it was taken away.

 

He stepped forwards, urged Douglas towards the bed with physical gestures. He felt Douglas smile as their lips met again, both of them stumbling slightly as Martin crowded him backwards.

 

“Eager, eh?” Douglas’ tone was light, teasing, but Martin’s heart was thrumming as if he’d just sprinted 200 metres, feeling every pulse throbbing in his half-hard cock.

 

Douglas’ legs met the edge of the double bed, and he sat down, leaving Martin leaning uncomfortably over him for a moment. His hands reached for Martin’s belt, unfastening it with expertise clearly born of years of practice, tugging at the fly and button. Martin trembled – whether in arousal or anticipation he wasn’t sure. He wanted this – so, _so_ much – he wanted Douglas to like it, wanted Douglas to be happy –

 

His brain continuing to race at a million miles an hour, Martin brought his hands up, cradled Douglas’ head, still kissing him frantically, urgently. He felt Douglas pushing his trousers down – flicking open his shirt buttons – _I should reciprocate_. He moved his hands down, trying to work Douglas’ shirt off, their arms knocking clumsily, disorganisedly together. _Fuck_. It wasn’t succeeding – he couldn’t reach. He knew his breath was coming in rapid pants, not just because of the oh-so-enticing feeling of Douglas’ fingers now roaming his skinny abdomen; there was his anxiousness mixed in, too.

 

“Come here.” Douglas shifted backwards, further on to the bed, patted the spot beside him. He shed his own shirt, baring his chest – but it was his warm smile as he did so which made something hot and liquid surge inside Martin’s chest – desperate longing clutching his heart.

 

“Wait.” Martin fled to the other side of the bed, dug hastily round in his toilet bag to find the small bottle he was after – the one that until now had been solely for his personal use. Locating it, he clambered awkwardly on to the lumpy mattress, handing the tube to Douglas as he did so.

 

Douglas squinted at it, reading the brand name of the lube. “Aha. I like your thinking.” He gave a mischievous grin. “But first –“ He reached for Martin, clearly trying to divest him of his remaining clothing, Martin thought. Before he could touch him, Martin pre-empted the anticipated action, shrugging off shirt and pants as speedily as he knew how. He lay back again, waiting for the whirlwind assault that would surely follow, closing his eyes.

 

 _Use me. I’m yours. Even if it’s just this once._ How could he feel so eager and so heartsick all at the same time?

 

And then – Martin jumped as he felt a soft press of lips right on his centre, just above his navel. It was the last thing he’d been expecting – he had been set for Douglas’ fingers probing him open, or at best maybe stroking his now fully-hard cock a little first. This mumble of Douglas’ gentle mouth on his taut stomach muscles – this, he hadn’t been prepared to receive. He let out a cough of startled air at the contact, feeling Douglas’ hand running smoothly up his inside leg.

 

“What – what are you doing?” Martin’s voice was cracked, surprised. He peeked an eye open to see Douglas, still kissing tenderly at his middle.

 

Douglas glanced up. He quirked an eyebrow, a familiar Douglas-y expression of amusement that Martin had _never_ expected to see in this context. “Isn’t it obvious?” He returned to caressing Martin’s chest with his lips as Martin’s brain whirled with confusion. _Not to me_ , he wanted to reply.

 

At a loss, he carded his fingers through Douglas’ hair, for a moment succumbing to the flickering curls of pleasure generated by Douglas’ soft lips on him – his hand exploring Martin’s thighs – But then he was seized again by worry that he wasn’t giving Douglas anything in return.

 

In his agitation, he pushed at Douglas harder than he’d intended to, shoving him over on to his back so he could get at him. Douglas let out a _whuff_ of surprised breath, but allowed Martin to manipulate him backwards. He kept his other palm on Martin though, a warm presence stroking Martin’s shoulder as he reached straight for the bulge in Douglas’ boxers.

 

Martin’s face was fierce with concentration as he grasped Douglas through his underwear, a part of him – the part not entirely subsumed by fretfulness – thrilling to the hardness, the idea that he’d inspired this arousal in the first officer. As soon as he touched, he began to stroke, setting a rapid rhythm, designed to get Douglas off as quickly as possible. He’d not want Martin to linger, after all. _Scratch the itch. Please him. Make him happy._

 

Douglas was responding, gripping Martin’s shoulder tighter and tighter. His hips were beginning to twitch up off the bed, abortive little jerks that encouraged Martin to go even faster. His panic was fading a bit as Douglas got closer – he was succeeding, he was doing this…

 

“Stop, stop!” Douglas was breathing hard, suddenly grabbed at Martin’s wrist to get him to desist. Martin halted, surprised, anxiety again rearing inside him. For the first time since he’d touched him, he looked at Douglas’ face, met his eyes again.

 

“Was that – not alright?” He could hear how tremulous he sounded. God. Douglas was going to think he was useless. Inexperienced.

 

Douglas shook his head and for a moment Martin feared something inside of him was seizing up, dying, so great was the concern that he’d made a mistake, had displeased him. But then Douglas reached for him as he spoke, pulled him softly into his strong arms. “It was very… arousing.” He pressed a kiss to Martin’s forehead. “But – I’d like to take a bit more time over this, if that’s OK with you?”

 

Martin gulped. “Of – of course.” He swallowed hard at the feel of Douglas’ hand running up his side. “Whatever you want.”

 

“Thank you.” Douglas kissed him again, on the mouth this time. Martin trembled as he felt Douglas brushing at his nervily-pursed lips with his tongue. He opened his mouth on instinct, allowing him entrance, the slow slide of their tongues together sending desire haring straight to his groin. He whined, and then flushed with embarrassment, tensing up. _I sound desperate. He’s going to think I’m a total twit_.

 

Douglas had felt his sudden rigidity, and pulled back again. He looked quizzical, a touch concerned once more. “Martin.” Douglas stroked his cheekbone with an outstretched finger. “Are you sure this is OK? We don’t have to –“

 

“No,” Martin half-gasped. He clutched at Douglas’ hand on his face, pressed it warmly into his cheek. “I want to.” His heart lurched with devastating affection. “I _really_ want to.” Seeing Douglas still looking unsure, the truth – part of it, at least – spilled out in a rush of words. “I’m just nervous. I want you to enjoy it. I want you to like it.”

 

Douglas’ expression cleared a little and he smiled, though not mockingly, as Martin had feared. “I _am_ enjoying it.” He wound his arms more tightly round Martin’s back, pressing their groins together so Martin could feel just how much – the hardness there matching Martin’s own.

 

Martin wriggled a little, trying to stimulate him, even through the boxers Douglas was still wearing. It obviously worked, as Douglas’ eyes flickered shut in pleasure – Martin braced himself for the inevitable oncoming whirl of Douglas taking him, hard and fast, as Paul always used to. He shut his eyes, felt Douglas urging him on to his back. Dimly heard Douglas slipping off his underwear. He tried to steady his breathing, to prepare.  _Here it comes…_


	2. Calm

Yet – contrary to all Martin’s expectations – the first things he felt touch him were Douglas’ fingertips, tracing his jawline, oh-so softly. The contact was so unexpected that he physically jumped, causing Douglas’ fingers to falter for a second, before a thumb smoothed across his lips. The caress was butterfly-delicate, sending a shiver of warmth straight to Martin’s core.

 

“Look at me.” Douglas’ voice was a velvet whisper in his ear, the tickle of breath against Martin’s neck as he spoke indicating his proximity.

 

Martin twitchily opened his eyes, seeing Douglas hovering above him, barely centimetres away. As their gazes locked, Douglas beamed warmly.

 

“There you are.” The beautiful brown of his irises swam before Martin’s unbelieving stare. Cautiously, Martin reached up, ran a tentative hand up Douglas’ shoulder, evoking a sigh of satisfaction before Douglas continued. “Now then – what’s up?” The question was posed in easy, unthreatening tones as Douglas continued to stroke his face.

 

Martin tried to smile, leaning unthinkingly into Douglas’ caress as he did so. “Just – was expecting – something different.”

 

Douglas looked a little perplexed. “Like what?” He dropped a kiss on to Martin’s forehead, eliciting another whimper from the captain.

 

“I thought – thought you’d want –“ Martin moved his hand lower, grasping again for Douglas’ cock. He found it, and Douglas’ eyes rolled back for a second at the contact. “I thought you’d just want to – to shag me quickly. And be done.”

 

There was a pregnant hesitation. “Oh, _Martin_.” Douglas gently met Martin’s hand at his groin, lightly urged it away, entwining their fingers as he did so. “Why –“ He kissed at Martin’s neck, nuzzling his nose just under his jaw. “Why would you think that was all I was after?”

 

Martin was bewildered, felt stupid. He tensed up yet again, despite the softly arousing feeling of Douglas nibbling at the smooth skin behind his ear. “Because – because – in the past –“ He flushed. “- that’s all anyone has seemed to be interested in!” he finished, almost angrily, knowing he’d tried to clench both fists, forgetting Douglas was holding his hand. _There. Now watch him disappear. Now you’ve shown him how idiotic you are_.

 

“Martin.” Douglas’ voice was almost – was that a touch of sadness? It couldn’t be. But Douglas’ lips were meeting his again, moving slowly, tenderly, the hand twined round his own gently loosening in order to move up to twist in his hair. Martin’s heart was pounding. Douglas was still here. Still interested. _What’s going on?_

 

Douglas broke away, his hand now smoothing across Martin’s chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of Martin’s panting breaths. Martin gazed up at him, a great swell of affection surging in him against his will – the affection he usually tried to keep barricaded inside, its barriers crumbling in the face of this entirely unanticipated display of softness from his first officer.

 

Douglas spoke, his voice quiet in the silent room. “I know this might be anathema to you, Captain…” He rubbed slow circles over Martin’s sternum. “…but would you grant me a favour?”

 

“Anything,” Martin gasped out, before his brain could supply him with a more eloquent answer, completely distracted by the sight of Douglas’ pupils hugely dilated as he stared hungrily at Martin.

 

“You haven’t heard it yet – but I’m taking that as a yes.” Douglas stilled his hand, kissed again at Martin’s brow. “I want to be in charge, tonight.”

 

Martin’s face was perplexed, he knew. He tried to reach for Douglas’ cock again, but Douglas’ hand was suddenly there, gently preventing him.

 

“Do I have to call you sir?” Martin was only half-joking.

 

Douglas chuckled. “No. _Sir_.” He replaced Martin’s groping hand on the bed, stroked it so that Martin wouldn’t interpret the action as a rejection. “I just mean… there’s no need for you to do anything. Let me… look after you.” Martin still looked unsure. “Please?”

 

“It’s what you want?”

 

Douglas moved against his side, subtly shifting so that his hard cock dragged against Martin’s hip. Lust shot through Martin so powerfully that it took his breath away. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure. I promise.”

 

“O… OK then.” _What have I just agreed to?_ But it was impossible to entertain reservations, Martin found, when faced with a look of such naked adoration in Douglas’ expression…

 

“Good.” Douglas smiled at him again, the laughter lines that Martin found so unreasonably attractive crinkling round his eyes. “Lie back. Relax. Douglas Richardson is at the helm.”

 

“You’re a pilot, not a sailor,” Martin shot back, a touch of his usual snippiness evident for the first time.

 

Douglas grinned appreciatively. “Nonetheless.” He caressed Martin’s face once more. “Hush, Captain. Allow me.” He bent forward, capturing Martin into a kiss that began slowly, a dance of lips together, before gradually transforming into something more heated and passionate. Martin parted his mouth as Douglas flickered his tongue inwards, seeking his own in a manner that was both welcome and incredibly arousing.

 

Douglas’ hands were moving over him, too; he was leaning into Martin’s side, balancing on his upper arm to allow his palms to roam, stroking softly at Martin’s torso. Two thumbs found his nipples to rub, and Martin gasped into Douglas’ mouth. He could feel his nipples peaking under the attention, and could only sigh in appreciation as Douglas ducked his head downwards to lick and suck at them. Without thinking about it, Martin ran his hands through Douglas’ hair, exploring the strands curling against his questing fingers. His cock was so hard it was almost aching, and just as he began to think it was becoming uncomfortable rather than pleasurable, Douglas grasped him and stroked, sending warm throbs radiating throughout his pelvis. Somehow Douglas had dispensed the lube before he reached for Martin and his grip was slick and hot; a mildly hysterical part of Martin’s brain made a note to compliment him on his multi-tasking skills later -

 

Just then Douglas twisted his stroke, teasing at his frenulum, and all thoughts of anything other than _that_ swiftly departed his mind. “Douglas… Douglas…” He knew his eyes had slipped shut in ecstasy at the slow, gentle motion of Douglas’ hand.

 

“That’s right.” Douglas’ voice was entirely free of its usual smugness, approval taking its place. “Just look at you.”

 

Martin dared a glance, but the sight of Douglas’ broad palm wrapped tightly around his flushed, erect shaft threatened to be too much. Something surged within him and he had to look away, focusing instead on Douglas’ profile, so familiar and yet so strange, here in this scruffy bedroom; here, intently focused on Martin, on nothing but his pleasure, release.

 

Douglas desisted, seemingly realizing that Martin was close. Despite knowing logically that he wanted to prolong this encounter as much as Douglas would allow, Martin couldn’t help a whine of disappointment as Douglas ceased to stroke at him. Douglas laughed, not unkindly. “There’s more yet, love.” Something inside Martin cried out in shocked ecstasy at the endearment, his heart pounding. “Turn over.”

 

Martin did so, unable to resist a wriggle of his hips into the bed as he went – anything to stimulate his cock. _Perhaps he’s going to fuck me, now_. He didn’t mind, he told himself. Douglas’ gentleness up to this point had been far more than he’d ever expected. Now Douglas deserved his own climax, and it wasn’t as though Martin didn’t enjoy bottoming – they’d both come, and then it would be over, and Douglas would be back to normal – He tried to quell the wave of desolation that washed through him at the thought.

 

“You’re thinking.”

 

“Hmm?” Martin was distracted.

 

“I can practically hear you fretting.” Douglas smoothed two hands over Martin’s taut shoulders. “Hush. I’m in control, remember?” He planted a kiss at Martin’s nape, causing Martin to shiver in cautious appreciation.

 

Douglas was moving, straddling Martin, his legs now resting firmly astride Martin’s hips. “Rest your head in your arms – here.” Douglas positioned Martin’s arms to fold under his head, so he could lay his right cheek more comfortably against his hands. “God.” Douglas ran his palms sweepingly up Martin’s back. “I wish I had some oil.” He leaned forward, pressed licks and kisses down the knobbles of Martin’s upper vertebrae. “I could spend all day just massaging you, you _gorgeous_ thing.”

 

Martin’s brain was whirling. _Me? You can’t mean me._

 

Douglas was shifting down the bed towards its foot, continuing to caress Martin’s back with his lips and tongue as he went. He reached Martin’s coccyx, and his hands swept up Martin’s thighs to his buttocks. He kneaded at them, manipulating the firm flesh gently, as Martin twitched his hips into the coverlet at the sensation.

 

“Mmm.” Martin couldn’t hold back the sigh of pleasure he let out at the feel of Douglas kissing him again, just below the base of his spine.

 

“Good.” It wasn’t a question, but Martin answered it anyway.

 

“Yes – so very good – so – _margh_?!” Douglas’s tongue had licked him – licked his –

 

Douglas paused, his hands now holding Martin’s cheeks apart. “Is this OK?”

 

Martin’s brain didn’t know how to compute what was happening. “You want – you want to put your mouth – _there_?” He’d heard of it, of course, vaguely – but he’d never thought – never imagined –

 

“Very, very much.” Douglas applied another rough sweep of his tongue over Martin’s entrance. “Is that alright?”

 

“Y-yes.” Martin trembled. It was alright. _More_ than alright, he decided, as Douglas continued. He’d never pictured what it might feel like – the soft, wet heat of Douglas’ mouth on him, the probing tongue wriggling just inside him, every nerve-ending jangling with pleasure at the sensation of being gently pried open and explored.

 

Douglas lifted his head to get some air, and blew gently on the wetness he’d made, the shift from heat to coolness nudging Martin’s arousal still higher. Douglas kissed at his hole again, making a gentle thrusting motion with his tongue, in-out in-out, and Martin’s hips jerked against the bed.

 

At last Douglas pulled away, smoothing a finger down the valley between Martin’s cheeks as he did so. “How was that?”

 

“So, so good… I can’t believe… Can I do – anything?” Martin couldn’t believe that Douglas wouldn’t want a hand, something, on him, now.

 

“No, lie still.” Douglas stroked his back soothingly. “This is for _you_ , remember?”

 

Martin was silent, his mind cartwheeling in incredulous delight. He dimly registered that Douglas had asked him another question. “What was that?”

 

“I said – do you prefer to top, or bottom? If you want to do either, that is?” Douglas kissed his side, ran a finger down his crack again. “It’s fine if the answer’s ‘no’. Or ‘not tonight’.”

 

“Bottom.” Martin’s voice was strangled.

 

“Sure?”

 

“ _God_ , yes.” Martin wriggled a hand under his belly, desperate to ease his cock with a few strokes.

 

Douglas allowed him to fondle for a few seconds, before gently turning him over. “Allow me.”

 

Martin had to close his eyes at the sight of Douglas bending to kiss the tip of his cock. It was a closed-mouthed kiss to begin with, and Martin would have called it chaste if it hadn’t been _there_ ; but then Douglas opened his mouth and sucked the head of his shaft in, causing Martin to cry out in pleasure. Again, all he could do was twine his fingers through Douglas’ hair, stroking to express his gratitude. He’d never felt so held, so – he wouldn’t allow himself to think the word, but it was there in his mind anyway – so _loved_.

 

Douglas pulled away. “Let me get some lube.”

 

“Here.” The bottle had slipped half-under Martin when he rolled over. He handed it to Douglas, their fingers brushing together at the transfer. Their eyes met, and despite what had just taken place – the rimming, the oral – it was this that Martin saw as the moment of greatest intimacy so far. Meeting Douglas’ gaze – perceiving the tenderness in his appreciative stare – it was almost too much for Martin, and he had to fight back the sudden sob building in his chest.

 

Douglas smiled. “You have no idea how stunning you are, do you?”

 

Martin was tempted to cover his face, to throw an arm over his eyes. He’d never known how to handle compliments that weren’t related to his work, or something equally impersonal. He settled for shaking his head mutely.

 

“Well – you are.” Douglas held his gaze while slicking up his fingers. “So, so stunning.”

 

Martin had to close his eyes, fighting back the rush of heady emotions threatening to overpower him. He felt Douglas gently moving his legs apart, circling his entrance with a finger. The FO’s other hand stroking his cock, slowly, provided the surprise Douglas needed to breach him, already the beginnings of loose enough thanks to Douglas’ tongue.

 

Martin felt the push and bore down, trying to ease Douglas’ way. He had always loved the feeling of being penetrated, slowly stretched wide – even when it had been Paul doing it – Paul, who'd never been particularly fussed about taking a long time over it, though he had always at least made certain that Martin wouldn’t actually be in pain. Douglas, on the other hand –

 

His pace was glacial, steadily reaching further and further, feeling for – Martin jerked as Douglas found his prostate. “There it is,” Douglas crooned, sinuously striping his finger around the small bump, sending hot desire flaring through Martin’s whole body. Douglas circled a finger of his other hand round the digit already breaching Martin, another action the captain hadn’t anticipated, it shooting ticklish sparks of delight up his passage. Douglas slowly drew his finger down, the next time pushing in with two.

 

“Breathe, love.”

 

Martin didn’t need the instruction normally, but half of him was still distracted with the disbelief that Douglas – _Douglas_ – was taking this much time over him, was concentrating so hard on him, when Martin could see Douglas’ own cock rising, flushed and ruddy in his lap where he knelt between Martin’s legs. He felt absurdly guilty. “Aren’t you – don’t you -?” He gestured, Douglas following his pointed hand with his eyes.

 

“All in good time.” He smiled at Martin, who settled back again, tempted to writhe under the pleasure of Douglas unhurriedly beginning to thrust his two fingers in and out. He couldn’t help but pant, trying to fend off the increasingly desperate sensation in his erection, his body screaming _touch me, more, god, more_.

 

He was so relaxed that he barely noticed Douglas adding a third finger, the additional stretch nothing he hadn’t been used to in the past, after all. The burn he associated with oncoming bliss was there, but it was nothing to the sheer delight of being stretched, lavished with such focused attention. More than anything he wanted to grab his cock and tug until he came everywhere – but he couldn’t deny Douglas, not when he’d been so patient, so _loving_ – there was that word again…

 

Douglas bent right over him, kissed at his ribcage as he continued to fuck Martin with his three fingers. His breathing was unsteady, urgent, Martin noticed – reassured by the clear evidence that Douglas was finding this as erotic as he was.

 

“Do you think – are you ready?” Douglas’ voice almost shook, and Martin reached up on instinct to embrace him tightly, not quite able to credit that he was somehow undoing Douglas so.

 

“I’m ready. Please. Now.” He felt less ashamed than hitherto of the desperate yearning in his voice. He even felt daring enough to continue. “I want you – want you inside me, _so much_.”

 

Douglas groaned, the nerves inside Martin at his own bold statement dying before they’d even begun to flare. He heard Douglas open a condom, the moist sound of him slicking himself before he shifted over him, lowering a hand to guide his cock to nudge at Martin’s entrance. He paused there, kissing Martin’s neck, before beginning a slow press inside.

 

Martin could feel the stretch, urged his body to relax, to take it. It was a slow burn, but not a painful one, thanks to Douglas’ thorough preparation. Douglas hesitated nonetheless, just the head of his shaft seated inside.

 

Martin couldn’t help it – he drew his legs up, pressed his heels unsubtly into Douglas’ buttocks. “I’m OK. Keep going, please, please.”

 

“Your wish.” Douglas sounded hoarse as he drove deeper inside, this time not stopping until he was fully seated in Martin. Both of them were panting hard as he came to a halt. Douglas let his head fall forwards on to Martin’s chest with a little moan. “You feel… I can’t describe it. So tight. So good.”

 

Martin felt his heart swell with illogical pride, passion. “You can move. When you’re ready.” His erection had flagged a little at the fire of penetration, but he knew that as soon as Douglas began to thrust – _oh._ There it was. The rhythmic twists of pleasure. It had been so long, too long –

 

The room was still quiet, but the air was heated and thick with the gasps both of them were increasingly emitting. Martin had been half-suspecting Douglas would come after barely a minute or two – he’d certainly appeared as erect and aroused as a man could possibly be. But somehow they were both holding on – Douglas’ thrusts growing faster, more confident, intermittently hitting the spot inside Martin that made him clench reflexively in pleasure.

 

And Douglas was speaking, now, murmuring words that Martin struggled to make out, even in the midnight silence of the bedroom. “So good. Beautiful. _Martin_. No one – no one –“ Here Douglas broke off, his grip on Martin’s shoulders tightening. He plunged more deeply than he had, causing Martin to cry out in startled bliss. “I’m going to – going to –“

 

“ _Yes_.” Martin knew, wanted it more than anything, more than even his own climax, just to say thank you, thank you –

 

“ _Fuck_. I’m coming -” Douglas hit his peak, hard, shaking between Martin’s thighs. Just the sight was nearly enough to set Martin off, but as Douglas shot inside him he also reached for Martin’s cock, stroking furiously despite the ecstasy wracking him. It was this that opened the floodgates to Martin’s orgasm, making him spurt euphoric bursts of come between the two of them, clenching around Douglas and inadvertently prolonging the blissful feelings in them both.

 

Martin shuddered as he came down, the tsunami of climax gradually ebbing away – and to his shock and amazement, he discovered he’d overflowed into sobs, shaking beneath Douglas even as Douglas slipped free of him.

 

Douglas’ hands were on him immediately, stroking at his face, catching the tears with his fingertips. “What is it?” Concern rang in his voice.

 

Martin shook his head, unable to express himself adequately for a moment. He felt Douglas roll to his side, surround him with strong arms, pulling him into his chest. Martin sniffled, to his shame. “It’s just – no one’s… no one’s ever… treated me like that. Sorry. Sorry.”

 

Douglas arms went even tighter round his back, and Martin nuzzled warmly into his neck, burying his tears in Douglas’ skin. “You mustn’t apologise. Shh… shh…” He stroked Martin’s curly hair, warmth flowing between them. “That’s why I wanted to do it. To show you – you are _worth_ taking time over. You are _worth_ feeling so… adored.”

 

Martin shook his head on reflex, but his sobs were quieting at Douglas’ words. “Thank you.” His words rang with gratitude. “I’ll remember it. Always.” Something inside him broke. _Just once_.

 

“No need to sound so final.” Douglas sounded teasing, but Martin didn’t understand.

 

“What?” He looked up, caught Douglas’ eye, knowing he’d be blotchy and rumpled but not caring amidst his confusion.

 

“Well – that _was_ just the first time.” Douglas voice was still light, but his brow furrowed at Martin’s perplexity.

 

“The first?” Martin felt as if his thoughts were soaked in treacle, they were moving so sluggishly. He couldn’t make sense of it.

 

“Martin.” Douglas seemed frustrated. “What did you _think_ I wanted you for?”

 

Martin sniffed, wiped his eyes. “A – a fuck.”

 

“Martin, you – you –“ Douglas shook his head, bewildered. “That’s not – I want –“ He suddenly seemed unsure. “I mean, perhaps you don’t… but I was offering you rather _more_.” He tailed off, awaiting Martin’s reaction, looking nervous himself now.

 

“More?” Martin’s voice was a squeak.

 

Douglas cleared his throat. “Well – if was looking for casual, there are plenty of less _awkward_ places to look than just across the flight deck.” He raised an eyebrow.

 

“Oh my God.” Martin’s tears threatened to well up again. “I want – yes, I mean. Yes. I want that too.”

 

“Thank goodness for that.” Douglas’ sudden grin was radiant. “Thank goodness.” And he held on to Martin as if he’d never let him go.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the fic - I now have Tumblr, which I'm trying not to tie myself in perplexed knots with. Feel free to pop in at jay-eagle.tumblr.com :)


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